Dawn Nahorniak Photography

When I was little - maybe 4 or 5 years old - my dad decided it was time for me to learn to swim.  So, at a party he set me in the pool and told me to swim.  After much crying and screaming, guess what I did? I learned to swim.  I have a great love of water and everything you can do in and around it.  And I think it all began that day my dad made me learn to swim.  Onlookers at the party poo-pooed my dad for making his young daughter scream and cry while seeming to become engulfed by water.  But my dad knew something about parenting.  He knew that sometimes you have to make children do things they are afraid of for their own good.

I’m certain that many people don’t agree with that approach to parenting.  I suppose I understand that but I happen to parent just like my dad.  I push my children to try new things - even when they don’t want to.  

Our healthclub has a big swirly slide that drops into the pool.  For years, Mak refused to even entertain the idea of trying it out.  She was afraid.  As her mama, I knew that she had no reason to be afraid of that slide. So one day when we went to the pool as a family, I shocked her.  

“Mak, when you walk into the pool area I want you to walk over to the purple slide, walk up the stairs and go down the slide.  Please don’t cry or the lifeguards will ask us to leave.  You can choose not to but then you and I will need to leave and Liv and Papa will stay and play.”

She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “ok.”

She proceeded to walk over to the slide, walk up the stairs and slide triumphantly down that purple slide. And we couldn’t get her off of the slide that day.  If we hadn’t insisted, she’d still be avoiding that slide.

The rule when we go boating is this:  you must at least try to get up on water skiis before you climb into the tube.  If we didn’t enforce this rule, the children would never learn how to water ski.  Water skiing is hard.  Water skiing is a bit scary for little ones.  But water skiing is also fun after you get past the hard stuff.  And it’s good exercise - unlike being pulled by a boat in a tube.

When Mak was 5, we were out in the middle of Lake Delevan and she was screaming and crying because she didn’t want to ski.  Some of my family (and some friends) scolded us when we got back to shore because they could hear the screaming and crying.  My brother was out there with us and he insisted on the skiing, too - he agrees with dad’s parenting philosophy.  Although I must say that I doubt my dad would categorize his thought process as some type of parenting philosophy.  He’s not like that - no philosophy for him.  He’s just a common sense type of guy.  Philosophy, common sense or whatever - I just call it brilliant.

This weekend, we went out on the water for the first time this summer.  A few days before we left to go camping and boating, Livy announced “I am not going to ski.  I’m just not.”

“Ok”, I said, “but you know that means there will be no tubing.”

That was all that was said that day.  My heart is softening, I must tell you.  Because I had half a mind to allow her not to ski.  I’m losing it.  Really.  I was afraid of myself.  And then I devised a plan.  A plan involving Nerd Ropes.  Have you ever seen a Nerd Rope?  It’s a long piece of sticky, sugary type material that acts as a delivery device for Nerds.  My children adore Nerd Ropes.

As we were pulling out of the dock, I told Livy that if she tried to get up on skiis she could have a Nerd Rope.  Much to my surprise she agreed.  The first try was a valiant effort.  She went about 50 yards without falling.  The next two were disasterous and included face plants right into the water.  And then the crying ensued.  It was ok, though, because she tried and that’s all I ask.  See, I’ve just proven my theory that Nerd Ropes are some kind of magic.  She tried.  For a Nerd Rope.  Whatever it takes.  Right?

The magic Nerd Rope.

After all of that screaming and crying years ago, Mak has grown to love and look forward to skiing:

The fruits of their labor:

One last thing about Livy’s skiing this weekend.  I would be remiss if I left this part out.  

After she fell skiing the last time, she came over to the back of the boat where I was sitting.  Her sister was getting her skis on in the water.  She said, “can I cuddle up with you while Mak is out there?”

Did she even need to ask?  Would I ever give up an opportunity to smell her hair as she works her little body into a comfy position?

After a moment or two, out of the blue she said, “Mama, I really do want to be more like Jesus.  But I’m not sure about the walking on water part.”